when they meet again
by eine.hexe
Summary: They sped through the webs of time in search of each other, building their worlds entirely around one another. No matter who they were, their souls stayed the same. Their souls were in love.  Mild usage of German and Spanish
1. accidental evasion

**accidental evasion  
**

**

* * *

**

They met in a subway.

* * *

_She_ seemed dressed to impress (though visibly not on purpose), heading south, towards her Buddhist monk friend's party. Her head was filled with voids, she'd worked hard to manage such a feat. The ultimate goal was not to feel anymore, because feelings left scars that wouldn't heal and she wouldn't have that. What she had was her dignity, but at times she lost even that.

_He_ was just there, simply relishing her curves, eyes glued to the way her body swayed just slightly with the speed of the subway. Teasingly, he made quite a few lewd comments about her long legs, her fab heels, but she ignored him.

A couple of blocks away from Miroku's she tripped, but thought nothing of it. She just hadn't been paying attention, she told herself. At the party she had her few drinks, avoided her regular admirers, held back from mingling. She was unreachable, unapproachable. That porcelain doll you keep on the uppermost shelf so you won't accidentally knock it down. The one you stare at for a long time, but never touch.

On her way back home she was aware she was swaying. Maybe this once she'd had one shot too many or maybe it was the exhaustion. She tripped again, knowing it was the alcohol, the dizziness; she was so lightheaded. This time she didn't care anymore; the liquor had dissolved such reserves.

He was right in front of her, the stranger from before. He was beautiful in a distant way, she noticed suddenly despite the haziness – or was it _because_ of that? He expressed his annoyance with her through a simple scrunching of the nose and she said nothing. They passed each other by wordlessly, without a clue.

For them, there would be no other chance in _this_ lifetime.

* * *

_WARNING: the series will have some heartbreaking chapters. This is the only warning you'll get, so don't skip it :)  
_

_einehexe's heartfelt words:_ I deeply apologize for lingering in the shadows for so long, but it's been really hectic around here, meaning I've done some struggling with myself and now I'm trying to reorganize everything in my life (you know how hard that is, don't you?) First of all I'd like to thank and also apologize to **Kinky-Hoe**, **Desenchanter**, **Say0mi Saki** and **purduepup **(I owe you big). Honestly, I'm such a freak; it's as if something inside me has been blocking me from writing or replying to reviews and from doing a lot of other stuff, too (well, time has been a major dick, too, but I shouldn't try to find excuses)

anyway, this series has been written on my cell phone in a park on many walks listening to _Grenade by Bruno Mars_ (yes, listening to only one song over and over), because I needed it. I needed something that would encompass everything - the good and the bad, miracles and tragedy. I don't care if this has been done before. Yes, I am aware that every chapter is a small cliché in itself, but it just came from within. I'm not going to question it, and I'm certainly not going to respond to people claiming I copied their ideas (I'm sure there are thousands of similar stories out there; I know even I read some), but this baby belongs to me and that's how it's going to stay.

... you know what? I might reconsider my previous decision of completely leaving Inuyasha fandom.

thank you.


	2. a demon slayer's demons

**a demon slayer's demons**

* * *

_The slayer was frozen to the place. She choked back a whimper. As promised, Sango wouldn't cry. Still, there was only so much she could do to repress the instant urge to throw up as she witnessed the mangled body in front of her._

'Sango?'  
'Hm?'  
'Do you promise?'  
'Promise what?'

_Kagome had been silent for a moment then. Sango had assumed to understand what the younger girl had meant, had anticipated a potential return of the modern girl to her own time, but if only she'd known the miko's true intentions…_

'It's fine. You don't have to say it, Kagome, I always know what you mean. I promise not to cry.'

_She'd promised. "Thank you," Kagome had said with a smile. She'd promised, and now…_

Kagome.

_The young girl's eyes – the once beautiful, vibrant miko – were wide open, her neck snapped, head lying at an implausibly odd angle, her body having collided with the ground violently. She was missing a…_

'Kami,'_ Sango couldn't help the disgusted shudder. She didn't want to think about it. _Oh, 'Kami… Don't think about it. Don't look. Don't look.' But she did look. _'Kami.'_

_The blood wasn't gallons, but it was Kagome's and the mere notion was outrageous. And the sight… the sight was beyond horrendous. Scarring._

'Dear Heavens…'

_Naraku had triumphed._

Oh, God… not you, Kagome... never you.

_Byakuya had helped. It was so unbelievable to think of Kagome in that position… in that bloody state. The memory of her laughing and crying, the memory of her alive at all seemed so distant and surreal, and it wasn't supposed to ever be that way – Sango was afraid she'd lose it. With great difficulty she suppressed another bout of heart-wrenching sobs that taunted her with their creepy loom. Desperately, she tried to stop her hands from shaking uncontrollably as she cradled her friend's lifeless body. If only the others had been there, if only Kagome hadn't had to protect that poor child, if only there hadn't been so many demons for Sango to ward off._

… _if only Naraku hadn't been such a cunning, heartless bastard._


	3. a pinch of history

**a pinch of history**

* * *

February 14, 1945, outskirts of Danzig (Gdańsk)

* * *

The heinous cold stung his limbs with icy tongues, taunting him mockingly. He hated the lack of heat, but hated the thought of being dead more. He couldn't be part of the Wehrmacht anymore, he hated anything that had to do with his own country, Germany, and force; with the way things were advancing, he'd be dead in no time. Call him a deserter, call him a coward, but he'd rather be either of those than dead anytime.

Now he was stuck here after walking for so long – it felt like days – and he couldn't, anymore. His feet were so frozen that he was afraid they'd fall off. Soon he wouldn't be able to walk any longer so this was his last resort. His _only_ resort.

Biting his purple lips, he knocked loudly, inwardly panicking when he realized he couldn't feel his fingers.

"Wer ist da?" came a voice from inside and he breathed out in relief. This was the only house nearby and he had to play it right.

"Bitte schön... lassen Sie mich drin kommen. Ich bin fast gefroren," he begged, his dignity be dammed.

There was the distinct noise of fumbling with the locks before the same female voice asked, "Wer sind Sie?"

"Ich..." Damn. He hadn't thought to invent a story, hadn't predicted it would pose a problem. "Ich bin ein Reisende. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin."

"Mein Mann hat mir gesagt, ich soll niemand drinnen lassen. Tut mir leid," she said, her words filling him with absolute dread, but he tried to keep his calm.

"Ihrer Mann ist sehr intelligent, aber falls irgendeiner Ihre Hilfe braucht, helfen Sie ihm nicht? Dann wären Sie herzlos."

"Tut mir leid, aber ich kann nichts für Sie tun. Diese Tür öffne ich nicht."

"Nein! Warten sie nun! Ich hab' gelügt: ich bin kein Reisende, sondern ein Fahnenflüchtige. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin! Ich werde einfrieren, wenn ich draußen bleibe."

He knocked on the door harder; she, on the other hand, still wouldn't open. His words, though, and his desperate voice pulled at her heartstrings.

"Fahnenflüchtige? Hier werden sie keine Hilfe finden. Suchen Sie anderswo. Sofort! Ich will unbedingt, dass sie weggehen!" Her voice was determined, a tad scared, a hint tired and nothing short of angelic. It was highly ironic.

"Weg!" she repeated, kept repeating, shouting even, but he didn't give up. "Bitte," he'd say. "Bitte schön," he'd beg. The woman ignored his pleas and knocks that had become punches; she didn't open. After a while she didn't even yell at him to leave anymore.

Morning came; she got up and lit a new candle for yet another Sunday since her husband had been called by the Kriegsmarine, the German Navy. He hadn't returned ever since. There were twenty-six candles and no news of her dear Hans-Georg. As always, she dressed up to go to church and talk to the good, but slightly womanizing priest, starting right after opening the door. The deserter from the previous night – she'd forgotten all about him – he was dead now, his face purple from frost, though his attractive, manly features still striking.

A shame.

The thought of anyone treating her darling Hans so heartlessly had a stab of guilt shooting through her gut, but she didn't lose hope: he'd find his way back to her, just as promised.

"Er had es verprochen. Mein Hans ist kein Lüger."

The deserter had thick eyebrows and unusually long, black hair that turned white as she dragged him through the snow. Her heart pounded mercilessly, but she cast that on the fear that someone else might come by.

How could she know that she should have saved him?

* * *

_einehexe says:_ Sorry. I didn't mean to leave you all confused - no, I'm lying. I did mean to write in German, because I felt like I needed to. I know it's annoying to check the meanings at the bottom, but it's not such a long text, so you won't have to scroll down a lot :) Here it is:

o Wer ist da? - _Who is here?_  
o Bitte schön... lassen Sie mich drin kommen. Ich bin fast gefroren - _Please let me in. I'm almost frozen._  
o Wer sind Sie? - _Who are you?_  
o Ich... - _I..._  
o Ich bin ein Reisende. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin - _I'm a traveler. Please let me in._  
o Mein Mann hat mir gesagt, ich soll niemand drinnen lassen. Tut mir leid - _My husband told me not to let anyone in. I'm sorry._  
o Ihrer Mann ist sehr intelligent, aber falls irgendeiner Ihre Hilfe braucht, helfen Sie ihm nicht? Dann wären Sie herzlos. - _Your husband is very intelligent, but if someone needs your help, don't you give it to them? Then you'd be heartless._  
o Tut mir leid, aber ich kann nichts für Sie tun. Diese Tür öffne ich nicht. - _Sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you. I'm not opening the door._  
o Nein! Warten sie nun! Ich hab' gelügt: ich bin kein Reisende, sondern ein Fahnenflüchtige. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin! Ich werde einfrieren, wenn ich draußen bleibe. - _No! Wait! I lied: I'm not a traveler, but a deserter. Please let me in. I'll freeze if I stay outside._  
o Fahnenflüchtige? Hier werden sie keine Hilfe finden. Suchen Sie anderswo. Sofort! Ich will unbedingt, dass sie weggehen! - _Deserter? You won't find help here. Look elsewhere. Right now! I want you to go!_  
o Weg! - _Go!_  
o Bitte/Bitte schön - _Please_  
o Er had es verprochen. Mein Hans ist kein Lüger. - _He promised. My Hans is no liar._

And also sorry if I don't have the facts right (there aren't many facts, actually, just a date and a place and a language, and that's it) If my German is wrong, then feel free to correct me; I always do enjoy constructive criticism, especially when it comes from good will :)


	4. you will be missed

**you will be missed**

* * *

_The monk was first to enter the battlefield. Before anything else he noticed the remnants of lesser demons, lizard demons and felines who had been reduced to mere bits and pieces and were emitting an awful stench that enveloped him in a revolting manner._

_His eyes feel upon Sango afterward – the slayer that held his heart. She was hunched over a body, a small, female corpse – he didn't know whose. Cautious, almost as though his heart would burst if he didn't watch his steps, he approached the working woman. She seemed to be cleaning the body – perhaps a young girl fallen in battle? It appeared that way. How great was Sango's soul, indeed._

_His legs threatened to collapse in that moment as his breath left him in a whoosh. Surely his eyes were betraying him, because it wasn't possible that Sango was holding the dead body of their friend. Kagome had to be…_

… safe at home.

_Inuyasha believed she was, Miroku realized, and to an even greater horror, he thought of how the hanyou would handle such a ghastly view. Torn between denying the obvious and helping Sango clean their friend, the monk could only stare… and let tears fall freely. Kagome, _their_ Kagome, the lively girl that was so good at bringing smiles on their lips and cracking such poor jokes that even the most insensitive of people – or hanyou – would feel obliged to laugh at, was forever gone. The forest was quiet and Sango was, too. She wasn't crying, but Miroku could see a cavernous pain etched on her contorted features._

'She's trying not to…'

_Realizing he should act more like a man himself, the monk gulped audibly and wiped the corners of his eyes with his sleeves, letting the staff drop to the ground loudly, making his presence known. Biting his lips, he pulled a cloth from his robes and cleaned Kagome's face. Realizing with a sickly shiver that the girl's eyes were still open, he closed them delicately. She deserved a graceful treatment._

_Then he remembered vaguely that Shippou had been right behind him and stood up abruptly._

'He mustn't see this!'

_Without a word, he left Sango to continue and met the still innocent fox demon halfway, conjuring a lie only to get him away from an obvious heartbreak. Questions about the smell of Kagome's blood and her absence for some time were deftly evaded as a young demon was tricked with sweets._


	5. when you love it stings

**when you love it stings**

* * *

It hurt like a bitch. To him, _she_ was beyond invisible.

* * *

Sometimes she loved her sister to bits, but sometimes she loathed the fact that they were twins. Hisao loved Megumi, not her, Kikyou. He was just _using_ her. Every time she answered to his call and went to his home to provide warmth when Megumi wouldn't, Kikyou was left with the heartbreak. Heartbreak and a bitter taste.

This time was no different. They'd had another fight, the perfect couple. If they were so in love like everyone thought, then how come Hisao was able to do such a thing, to betray Megumi in such a way? Whenever she allowed herself to delve into the depth of things, Kikyou discovered countless reasons to condemn this man and to hate herself, as well. She was doing it to Megumi, too. As much as she loved her sister, the love she held for this man was greater, inherent. As if an impenetrable link between her and him had been born along with them, as if she couldn't separate her soul from his. That she liked to believe, and whenever she lost herself in the essence of her troubles and heartache, she would think back to rosy times, times when he'd smile and her heart would flutter at such a mighty sight.

Now he was drenched in sweat and incredibly angry. He'd use her for sex again, though Kikyou didn't care. He could do what he wanted, as long as he took his energy, his pleasure from her. As long as _she_ was the only one he used to take relief from. She welcomed him with open arms every time, now was no exception.

He didn't kiss her, he never did. He never said her name, either; it was an unspoken rule. Whereas Hisao was silent, she was not.

She'd honestly thought this unrequited love story would conclude with the end of their trysts caused by his marrying her sister, not because of an unexpected accident. He was supposed to be there at all times, even if out of her reach; Kikyou had never anticipated such an early death. She'd wanted him always there.

* * *

On March 18, 2012, Kikyou's heart was buried along with Hisao's.

* * *

_einehexe wants to add:_ so, if you haven't understood yet... Kikyou in this story is holder of Kagome and Kikyou's soul, Hisao is Inuyasha's :)


	6. a resolute miko's expiry

**a resolute miko's expiry**

* * *

_Kagome didn't know what to do. Things had downgraded so fast that she could barely wrap her mind around anything. There was no time for thinking, though she was aware she was in urgent need of another plan. Contrary to her original preparations, a small child, Seichi, had been taken hostage, thus messing up everything. Not only was she completely unable to get to Naraku with the little boy shielding him from an open attack, but she was also incapable of using her spiritual powers to purify him lest he dropped the boy._

'If only Inuyasha was here…'

_No, she thought determinedly. She wouldn't drag Inuyasha into this, because for once she was the one responsible. It was her turn to take a stand against the dreadful opponent. Her plan had to work, because she'd spent some time scheming it. First, she'd had to lure Naraku out of his shell, then she'd gone and improved her spiritual barriers to encase him in one. She would rip him to pieces with her spiritual powers. He'd be turned to ashes before he could even begin to blink – that was her plan._

_The dark hanyou laughed maniacally, understanding the full depth of her distress, but he couldn't anticipate the slayer's strategic toss of the giant boomerang. Nevertheless, it only managed to cut off a measly tentacle and surprise the demon, but nothing more. It didn't even startle him enough to leave the child alone._

_Kagome tried to make something of this mess before it went completely downhill. She saw the hanyou grow more and more confident, but then he pushed the kid away, lunging towards her. It was her chance, she realized with a smug countenance – he was going down! – and a first cocky smirk…_

…_that was also her last._

_The child that was being held by a tentacle was suddenly thrust between them once again and Kagome had to stop her attack, completely missing the other four tentacles heading her way._

_One swept over her feet, making her stumble and fall on her back with a throbbing thud._

_The first, startled cry._

_A second one grabbed her by the midsection, thrusting her up in the air and shaking her roughly from side to side until Naraku was satisfied and her insides were churned._

_The second, panic-driven cry._

_Naraku wanted the Sacred Jewel, but it was obvious Kagome wasn't going to hand it over willingly. It was currently in her hand, as she'd intended to use its power to destroy him. Another tentacle meant to solve this issue by turning to rigid stone and cutting her hand off, the jewel still in its clutch. The appendage fell to the ground to remain a static, partially open fist, to the abject horror of its owner as the tentacle took the gem._

_The third, pain-filled cry._

"_You should have known you weren't worthy of fighting me," the wicked hanyou taunted just before delivering. An evil smirk was the last thing Kagome saw right before the last tentacle snapped her neck swiftly, dropping her body to the forest ground._

_A last, half-cry._


	7. latin tattoo

**latin tattoo**

* * *

She came from Argentina, he was from Portland, Oregon. Her parents hated Americans, his were dead. Her name was Natalia, his, Ryan. There wasn't much to say, except that it was love at first sight. She'd entered his tattoo shop with such determination carved on her face that he'd been immediately entranced. A second person had come in after her, a man, and he'd almost glowered at the guy, but then she'd spoken, captivating him entirely with her innocent voice.

"Hello," she'd said with an accent and he'd smiled. "I want to do me a tattoo."

Ryan nodded, but the words she said, the way she spoke was so funny he barely stifled the urge to laugh. Her pronunciation was so cute; her accent was, too.

"Here my brother, but he no stay. He come back later." Then she addressed her sibling. "Mira. Si no hacés lo que te dije, te juro que mama se va a enterar de todas tus amiguitas, ¿me entendés?" The boy nodded, looking quite scared, and Ryan felt like cursing because he couldn't understand a word of what was being said. "Ahora," the girl said next with a threatening tone, "a ver si me has entendido. Vos te vas a ir y me vas a dejar a solas con este bombón, ¿está claro?"

"Si, pero sólo te quiero decir una cosa: sos una perra!"

"Haha, que chistoso sos vos. Eso significaria que vos también seas un perro. Al fin y al cabo somos hermanos, o no?"

The guy shrugged and showed her his tongue. A wave of relief washed over the young tattoo artist as he watched his no-longer-potential-rival leave the shop.

Natalia wanted the Kanji for 'Ai' tattoed on her shoulder. She'd been to Japan once, had instantly felt connected to it in a strange way, and felt that the Japanese symbol of love was the most appropriate to lie on her skin. Ryan understood that completely – for some reason he loved everything about Japan. Their conversations went on smoothly, even with her choppy English. She confessed she'd only wanted to have this tattoo done in order to get to know him – she'd been curious about his long, white hair. He told her he'd first dyed it that way at fourteen and had felt it was part of him ever since. She told him all about her overprotective parents, her prohibition of entertaining relations, not to mention friendships with any Americas, seeing as her mother hated them with a passion, reason unknown. Even this short trip to America had been won at a local contest, otherwise they would have never visited the states.

After finishing the tattoo, Ryan invited her for a coffee. She accepted, and returned the next day for another one. And the next. And the next, until she was to leave.

They had only two more days together and they'd already own up to their feelings: a young couple in love. However, fates were cruel on them, as they could never be together unless he moved to Argentina or she cut all ties with her family. She wouldn't do such a thing and he would never leave his business so easily. The nights they spent together were bittersweet; no words were requested, none were needed, so the only thing that enveloped them was the other's passion. They lay entwined in an array of tangled limbs, their hearts not yet ready to be torn.

But then she left and nothing would ever be ok again.

* * *

_einehexe chuckles:_ I did it again, didn't I? Oh, you must so hate me, but I love Argentinian Spanish. It's part of me. It's actually the language closest to my soul :) Again, I felt like I had to write a chapter using it. I was thinking about writing a story in Spanish for a long time, but I don't know what's kept me from it. It's probably that I haven't had very 'Spanish-y' feelings in a long time, but I might just get in the mood. Now here's the translation:

o Mira. Si no hacés lo que te dije, te juro que mama se va a enterar de todas tus amiguitas, ¿me entendés? - _Look, if you don't do as I say, I swear mom's gonna find out about your lady friends, understood?_  
o Ahora - _Now_  
o a ver si me has entendido. Vos te vas a ir y me vas a dejar a solas con este bombón, ¿está claro? - _Let's see if you understood me. You are going to go and you are going to leave me alone with this piece of hotness (I really don't know a better word for bombón), is it clear?_  
o Si, pero sólo te quiero decir una cosa: sos una perra! - _Yes, but I only want to tell you something: you're a bitch_  
o Haha, que chistoso sos vos. Eso significaria que vos también seas un perro. Al fin y al cabo somos hermanos, o no? - _Haha, how funny you are. That'd mean you were a dog. We're siblings after all, aren't we?_


	8. love breaks skins and bones

**love breaks skin and bones**

* * *

_The smell of Kagome's blood had been enough motivation for him to run at a dangerously fast speed. Something greater than panic swirled in the air around him, but Inuyasha refused to allow himself any negative thoughts. It was likely that she'd merely hurt herself, what with how clumsy she always was, though the intensity of the stench from such a large distance told him otherwise._

'No. I'm not gonna think about that. She's all right.'

_He repelled any dark thoughts and kept running, wondering how he'd fallen behind so much. Truth was, he'd taken a few hours to think about Kikyou again. Her face had simply popped into his mind and he'd told Miroku he would be right behind him and the little fox demon. In fact, he'd got caught up in his own musings. Then, following the same path as the monk, he'd reached a spot where the smell of Kagome's blood had smacked him in the face viciously, almost making his feet go limp beneath him._

_But Kagome was all right. Kagome had to be all right._

_He'd thought she was at home, though._

"Inuyasha?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Well… I wanted to say I won't be coming with you and Miroku and Shippou to check if the rumor about another Shikon no Kakera is true. I hope you won't get mad, but I'm staying home this time."  
He was partly angry, partly relieved. Her safety was guaranteed, but she wouldn't be there, by his side.  
"Do you think you can manage without me?" she asked him quite demurely, looking anywhere but at him.  
"Keh. As if you don't already know the answer to that."  
"All right then…"  
She bit her lip and smiled.  
"Sorry, ok?"  
He felt as if she was apologizing for something else entirely.  
"Keh, no big deal."

_He reached the clearing where he was met with the sight of Sango hovering over a body. Acid dread gripped his heart and squeezed ferociously, leaving him oddly breathless. He was grateful for the lack of air entering his lungs, because otherwise he'd have to deal with the increased, sickening reek of Kagome's blood. Cold comprehension flowed through his veins at the sight before him. His eyes went wide on their own accord, even though he'd already realized what had happened._

_Kagome was injured. Gravely._

"_Sango?"_

_The slayer refused to look up, she refused to do anything else than to just sit there and cradle Kagome's body._

"_Dammit, woman, get the fuck away from her so I can take her to Kaede. She'll fix her for sure."_

_That got him a reaction as Sango cringed visibly, her shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world had been dropped on them._

"_Inuyasha, I… don't… come near."_

_The hanyou gulped – his body was doing things without his awareness – and he heard the monk approach the ghastly battle scene. Guts of demons were scattered everywhere and amongst them a single body concerned him most, yet this time something held him rooted to his spot._

_Miroku rushed to him and tried to pull him away, telling him not to go see, telling him to join Shippou, that 'it was better that way'._

_His throat went dry at the implications of such frantic requests from his friends. _

"_Miroku, get him out of here," Sango demanded fiercely, giving the monk a pained, though unwavering look. The ache in her eyes was unfathomable and Inuyasha's heart stopped for a moment. Miroku pulled at his clothes, but the hanyou pulled back steadfast._

_Slowly, against his will, Inuyasha reached the slayer that seemed resigned with the failure of delaying the inevitable._

_The sky was bright and sunny and birds were chirping blissfully, but Kagome was lying on the ground, the smell of blood thick around her. There was something so terribly wrong with that picture that Inuyasha wanted to throw up. His eyes remained wide and his claws pierced his thighs when he noticed something out the corner of his eyes. To their right, lying on the ground, gory and in a semi-relaxed state was Kagome's hand. The digits that had clutched a pen so many times in the past were now separated from their owner in such an unnatural way. No matter how much he wished it, the hanyou couldn't wrap his mind around the view. He wanted to reach toward the appendage, and he wanted to ignore it at the same time. As if ignoring it with enough zeal would somehow attach it back to Kagome's arm. His lips parted to give way to an excruciating scream, but no sound came out. He felt strangely bare inside, as if a fundamental part of him was missing._

_Directing his gaze to the left, where Sango and Kagome were, he finally grasped the whole extent of the damage. This time it wasn't something fixable, it wasn't something he would ever get over._

_The look on her face, he'd always and forever see in his cruelest nightmares. The sight of her lying there would haunt him even on the brightest days, would torment him with such passion that he'd never be sane again. Tears flowed freely on his face, but he didn't sense them. The only thing he did feel was a bitter, emptiness._

_His future was compromised. A future without Kagome was an inexistent one, and guilt and regret at having never confessed his feelings punched him in the sides mercilessly._

_Her last words to him echoed inside his mind, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough._

Sorry, ok? … sorry…

_With eerie speed he pushed Sango away and took Kagome's body in his arms, pulling her to his chest and crying desperately against her shoulder. The entire forest shook with his mind-numbing muffled cries, and he barely registered the choked sounds of his friends behind him._

_Kagome's blood was all over him._

Kami…

_Her… _blood.

_She wasn't breathing, she would never breathe again. Her eyes were closed, her neck has been snapped. It hung awkwardly over his shoulder and a sickened shudder pierced right through him when he noticed it._

_Kagome… His Kagome… the girl that held his heart in her tiny, frail, now lifeless hands, was dead._

_His world would never be the same, his soul would never heal. She'd taken away with her even the last fraction of himself that could ever carry on in her absence._

_Determined, he stood up and turned around slowly._

"_Who did this?"_

_He knew the answer. He could smell his presence, the lingering stench of miasma. He could see the lesser demons scattered everywhere and sliced-off tentacles, but a deep part inside of him wanted to hear the name. Calculated anger crept up his bones and scraped his skin with sadistic pleasure. The demon inside him begged to come out, but he denied permission. An inhuman look cast at the slayer had her whispering breathlessly, "Naraku."_

_In a flash, Inuyasha was gone._

_Had he paid attention, he would have smelled Byakuya downwind. He would have predicted the trap, he would have lived. But hours later, on another battlefield, a dead hanyou's soul joined a miko's._


	9. and heals souls

**... and heals souls  
**

* * *

He stopped with a reason. It was her smile, the way she held the light bag in her right hand, the way a baguette was delicately poking out of it. He knew almost nothing about this entrancing woman, except that she stood out among the crowd every evening at six sharp, when she'd pass him by right in front of the fountain in the city center. She wasn't aware of how every elegant gesture of hers kept him rooted to the spot, making him nervous enough to be swallowing heavily. How the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up when the wind made her ponytail float about, mesmerizing him. He'd enjoyed simply watching her so far – just a beauty that was part of his life in a distant, _absent_ way, but today he wanted more. Today, his feet itched to get him to walk toward her and approach her for the first time. She'd been unaware of his silent admiration so far, but after almost two whole weeks of merely watching her and finally accepting the strange feeling of familiarity, Inuyasha decided to introduce himself.

He knew her. The moment he was able to get a good look at her deep, chocolate eyes for what he perceived as a short eternity, he felt he already knew her. The question whether she felt the same plagued him, but he didn't voice it. In fact, he'd said nothing so far, had just stopped right in front of her, and she was visibly waiting. That was what kept him silent and unmoving – the fact that she didn't seem annoyed, nor afraid or evasive – she simply had a hint of the same charming, inviting smile she always wore. Inuyasha pursed his lips. The collar of his favorite shirt was strangely obstructive, suffocating him in a way that made him feel slightly lightheaded. He cleared his throat loudly, as if he were about to deliver a speech.

"Konnichiwa," he said and was surprised to see her giggle.

"Konnichiwa," she replied. "I was curious to see if you were ever going to make a move or simply keep pretending you just _happened_ to be here every day at the same time."

He smiled, having understood the message hidden behind her words. Gently, Inuyasha took the bag from her – it was lighter than he'd imagined it – and walked her home as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He learned she was half Japanese half Korean, that the baguette was in fact for the younger sister she'd raised alone. Next he learned that her name was Kagome, but that she didn't like it at all. That she didn't eat bread and that she didn't even eat after six.

They connected in a way he'd never dreamed, as if they'd shared a thousand lifetimes together, as if they'd torn down countless obstacles alongside each other. They were ignorant of what they'd built together in other pasts, unaware of the love stories they hadn't let flourish. They couldn't know how much they'd loved each other on so many lost occasions, but this time things would go right. It was a chance to start afresh – a new one that they wouldn't let out of their grasp.

This time they would make it work.

* * *

_einehexe lets you know: _... the end. I might (with emphasis on the word 'might') add chapters in between (that'd be cool, right? adding chapters not at the end of the story, but within it - I think I'm going to try that) thank you for reading it and thank you for being. that's all I can say :)

oh, and stay healthy and fit and always love like there's no tomorrow,  
_einehexe_


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